


As Luck Would Have It

by brookscribbles



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: (but magic does), (give alya some credit), Adrien Agreste Is Not Chat Noir, Alternate Universe - Chat Noir Doesn't Exist, F/F, Journalist Alya Césaire, Mutual Pining, alya is lois lane, and ladybug is a mysterious new hero, but adrien is still adorable, except glasses don't keep her secret, lois & clark AU, marinette is clark kent, only superhero identities complicate things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-19 17:59:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13128930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brookscribbles/pseuds/brookscribbles
Summary: AU. Alya is a journalist looking for her big break, and Marinette is her clumsy rookie who just might be able to help her out.





	As Luck Would Have It

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays! Here's my MLSecretSanta gift for b0n3-crush3r on Tumblr.

It would be Alya’s luck to have hot coffee spilled on her white blouse on the same day she had a meeting with her superior. The universe hated her that way.

She was on her way to work, innocently sitting on the metro when the car lurched and the contents of a nearby woman’s coffee cup ended up all over Alya’s chest and lap. The woman had profusely apologized, pulling napkins from her pink clutch and offering them with a stammer and a blush, but Alya hadn’t yelled or scolded. This day was too important to let her emotions get the best of her when a psychotic, mind-controlling villain was on the rise. No, if a little coffee was what the universe wanted to throw at her, well.

Alya would wear it with pride.

On the walk to her building, Alya steeled her nerves. Nadja Chamack, editor-in-chief of the up-and-coming media monster tabloid _La Trouvaille_ and her boss, had called her in for a meeting this morning, and Alya could not be more thrilled. After months of working her ass off, she was finally about to get the recognition she’d earned—the recognition she _deserved_. She could see it now: a promotion to investigative journalism, the ability to leave the eighth floor and all its trivial stories behind.

She spotted a figure swinging from the buildings ahead, red and spotted. Alya’s heart skipped with excitement. _Ladybug._ Paris’s new superhero would be ten times more likely to talk to a real investigative journalist than a gossip columnist, right? Alya glanced at her watch and quickened her pace. Messy shirt and ten minutes late—she was not shaping up to be the impressive work machine she'd hoped to dazzle her boss with.

She reached the front desk in time to see Nino, their receptionist, hanging up a call.

“Morning Alya! Mrs. Chamack is waiting for you. Good luck in there.” He took in her state of disarray with a vague gesture towards his own shirt, a little embarrassed. “You’ve, uh….got a little something….”

Alya gave a dismissive wave of her hand and she passed him, heading back towards Nadja’s office. “No time to fix it. Can’t keep the boss waiting.”

"Go get that promotion!" Nino called after her.

Calming herself to the best of her ability, Alya took a deep breath before stepping into Nadja Chamack’s office, only to find another woman sitting in there as well. Her heart fell.

“Sorry I’m late.” She tried to keep her voice light. “I wasn’t aware we’d have someone joining us.”

With a smile, Nadja gestured to the open seat in front of her desk. “Please, sit.”

Alya sat. She glanced towards the other woman in the room, intent on sizing her up, but upon glancing at her she found herself unable to look away. Alya recognized those wide, blue eyes and shocked, pink lips. She’d seen that same clutch at the woman’s side earlier that morning.

“ _You._ ” Alya’s eyes narrowed. “You’re from the metro train this morning.”

The woman had the audacity to _smile_. “Hi.” A nervous giggle. “I….see you’re still wearing my coffee.”

It was a questionable attempt at a joke at best, and Alya was not amused.

“This is Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Nadja continued. “She’s the new recruit assigned to your department, and I thought you were the perfect person to train her.”

“Train her?” Alya's heart rode the elevator up to the tenth floor and took a swan dive out the window. This was _not_ how her morning was supposed to go. Training a new journalist meant more competition for her later.

“Teach her the ins and outs of this place. Get her ready for her own column.” Nadja stood, signaling that they were dismissed. “I’m sure the two of you will get along splendidly.” 

The walk back to Alya’s office was a shameful one.

Alya silently and sullenly made her way to the elevators by the reception desk, with her new rookie right behind her.

One of her colleagues, Adrien, was just checking in at the front when she stalked past. “Whoa, hey! Hold the elevator.” He bounced up beside them, giving Alya two thumbs up.

“How’d the meeting go?”

Alya spun to face him, nearly knocking over Marinette. “Who told you I had a meeting?”

Adrien jerked one of his thumbs back towards Nino. Nino gave her a finger wave.

Alya sighed. “It was fine.”

The trio stepped onto the elevator.

Adrien wasted no time in continuing his cheerful barrage against Alya's rapidly melting Fortress of Solitude. “So, did you get that promotion?”

"Who told you I was up for a promo—" At Adrien's sheepish smirk, she sighed again. "Right, Nino. And _no,_ " she said, giving a pointed look towards Marinette, "I did not get that promotion."

Adrien’s gaze slid over to Marinette. “Hey, I don’t think I’ve seen you around. I’m Adrien. I work in fashion on the third floor.”

“I’m Marinette. I’m new.” Marinette gave him a small smile as they shook hands.

“Marinette is the rookie Chamack put under my watch this morning.” Alya said through clenched teeth. Adrien looked back and forth between the two women, putting the pieces together. “I’m going to be training her.”

“Oh. Well, hey, at least this shows that Nadja trusts you....?” Alya gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head as the elevator dinged. She was not in the mood to look on the bright side just yet; she needed time to mourn what could have been. “Well, this is my floor. Good luck on your first day, Marinette!”

When the elevator doors closed, there were several seconds of silence. Alya took the opportunity to size up her new coworker for real. Marinette was somewhat on the short side, with choppy, dark hair and porcelain skin dusted with freckles with an ever-present blush. She certainly didn't _look_ like someone who could singlehandedly ruin another person's career. She also hadn’t looked away from the elevator door since it had closed. Poor girl. Alya guessed she could go a little easier on her. After all, she remembered her own first day working here. She watched as Marinette’s blush grew deeper as time kept ticking. And time kept ticking. Alya glanced towards the control panel, which wasn’t lit up at all.

They weren’t moving.

“We’re going to eight.”

“What?” Marinette swiveled towards her, and Alya found herself slightly taken aback at the earnest gaze.

“The eighth floor. Could you,” Alya started, biting back a laugh. Did the universe have to send her a rookie that was so….unbelievably clueless? Her own tenacity needed room to stretch. “Could you handle pressing the button for the eighth floor?”

Alya watched as Marinette hesitated before pressing the button for eight. Then for seven, six, five, and four.

“What the hell?—”

“Okay, just, hear me out—”

“Why would you do that?”

Marinette threw her hands up defensively. “I don’t know! I wanted time to say something before we officially started working together.”

Alya stared at her. “You’re a little late for that.”

“I think we got off on the wrong foot. Let’s start over. First impressions can be….misleading.”

“You’ve made two already; ruining my shirt and now trapping me in an elevator. Why not add one more to the list?”

Marinette frowned. “I didn’t know you were my boss when I spilled coffee on you.”

“Oh, well, that makes it better!” Alya closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, lifting her glasses off her face as she did so. _Cool it_ , Alya. Do _not_ get akumatized. “Look. The only things I care about are making deadlines and making headlines. And if you get in the way of me accomplishing either of those,” Alya snapped opened her eyes. “I’ll make you regret your choice of career path.”

The elevator dinged and opened its doors, and Alya flounced off of it, heading for the sanctuary of her office.

“Wait!” she heard Marinette call after her. “We’re only on the fourth floor!”

Without missing a beat, Alya altered her course.

“I’m taking the stairs.”

After four tiring flights, Alya remembered why she took the elevator each morning. She also had time to take some deep breaths—especially around the third flight of stairs—and calm herself down. Marinette was just a rookie, starting out at the bottom. Alya could still train her and show Nadja that she was ready for something more. As she turned the corner to her office space, Alya found Marinette inside her cubicle.

Sitting in _her_ chair.

“Life lesson one: Stay out of my chair or that will be your last lesson in this life.”

“Oh! Sorry.” Marinette jumped from the seat. “It just looked so comfortable. And it spins!”

“It is. And it does. Make yourself useful and bring me that stack of folders over there,” Alya said, sitting down and logging into her computer.

“What are they?”

“They’re stories waiting to be told.” She shuffled through a few of them, looking for one suitable for a first timer. “Mostly research or story leads that I’ve gathered to help me when I need an idea.”

“What’s this one?” Marinette asked, holding up a red manila folder.

Alya snatched it away from her. “That’s my file on Ladybug.” Marinette's eyes widened. “You know who Ladybug is, right?”

“Uh….I’ve heard of her. In passing.”

“You new to the city?” Seeing Marinette’s nod, she explained. “She’s a superhero. Showed up a couple weeks ago around the same time this creepy villain started taking over people’s minds or something.”

“Huh. That explains why rent was so cheap,” Marinette joked with a goofy grin.

Alya was not amused. “He calls himself Hawkmoth. We’re not quite sure what he wants, but we know what he can do. Which reminds me, try not to let yourself get too overly emotional about anything.”

“Got it.” Marinette patted her chest. “Heart of stone.”

“Um. That was actually the first victim’s whole deal. Stoneheart? So. Maybe keep some of those emotions.”

Marinette stopped smiling. “Right. So! This….Ladybug. What do you think of her?”

“She’s amazing!” Alya couldn’t help but light up. Ladybug’s mysterious appearance had been the highlight of her year. “She’s beautiful, powerful, elegant—”

“You think she’s beautiful?”

“Well, so does half of Paris.” So did _all_ of Paris. The city was fascinated with her. Alya readjusted her glasses, skimming through the folder with a fond smile. She pulled out the first photo of Ladybug she’d placed inside. It wasn’t the highest quality, but it showed Ladybug, sitting beside an akuma victim on the curb. Alya had gathered that Ladybug’s powers were on some kind of timer, yet she still took the time to comfort him. The warmth and kindness the photo captured were enough to make Alya absolutely enamored with the superheroine.

“And why the folder?”

“Getting an interview with Ladybug is my ticket to making the front page.” And getting out of the gossip column and into anything else.

Marinette stood awkwardly beside her, seeming to want to lean forward but making herself keep a distance. “What would you ask her?”

Alya sat back in her chair and stared at the ceiling. “I’d ask how she became a superhero. Where she got her powers. How she plans to defeat Hawkmoth." A superhero origin exclusive could be just the opportunity she needed. "How she’s so brave. What she’s like under the mask. If she’d ever reveal her identity.” Alya stared down at a different photo, one of Ladybug shaking hands with the mayor, sporting a soft smile. “If….if she’d like to go out sometime—for research purposes, of course.”

“Of course.” Marinette’s ears were pink, but she was smiling. “I’ll get you an interview.”

“Actually, that last bit was probably too unprofessional—”

“I’ll get you an interview!”

Alya stared long and hard at her new rookie. “Every big news outlet in the city—the country!—wants an interview with her. Hordes of reporters surround her after every attack. I’ve tried to talk to her several times in the past week, but she’s always gone before I can get close enough.” Alya ran her thumb over the photo in her hand. “I’d kill for even a few minutes of her time.”

“Maybe….maybe Ladybug was overwhelmed and didn’t see you! What with the pressure of being Paris’ new hero and a constant timer in her ears and a million microphones in her face—” Marinette clutched Alya’s shoulder then, eyes wide and sincere. “But. Alya. If I can get you that interview, I get a clean slate. I know I messed up your morning and during the meeting you were expecting something….not me. But I don’t want you to hate me while we’re working together.”

Her intensity startled Alya. She certainly didn’t hate Marinette—she was extremely irritated with the day’s events, yes, and Marinette was the source of her recent bad luck, yes. But an interview with Ladybug would get Alya’s story trending number one in the country, if she asked the right questions. It could kickstart the career of her dreams. And if Marinette couldn’t get it for her, well. What was an empty promise on top of stained clothes and a promotion that was looking further and further away?

“Marinette, if you can get me an interview with Ladybug, I’ll take you out for coffee to replace the one you wasted today.”

Her rookie thrust out her hand.

“Deal!”

 

✧✧-----------✧✧

 

It wasn’t every day that the Eiffel Tower crumbled to the ground. Some days it was the Notre-Dame or the Louvre. But they all meant the same thing:

Akuma attack.

Alya had been sitting at her desk when she heard. She was drafting an email to Marinette about the importance of punctuality in the workplace, seeing as tardiness was becoming typical with her rookie. Marinette had been late every day that week. Alya sniffed. Maybe her rookie only liked being on time when Alya’s career was on the line.

Max, a fellow gossip columnist, had held up his phone. “The hashtag ‘akuma’ started trending five minutes ago,” he’d loudly informed everyone on their floor. “There’s been another victim.”

Alya barely had time to process what he’d said before Nadja walked out of the elevator. “Alright everyone, an akuma is on the move, which means Ladybug is close behind.” Nadja looked around at Alya’s coworkers. “Who’d like to try and get a statement?”

That was how Alya ended up at the back of a crowd of reporters on the _Champ de Mars_ , all waving microphones and cameras and trying to get Ladybug’s attention.

Alya had seen Ladybug up close a handful of times, but it never failed to take her breath away. She was holding the akuma victim, a young girl who had to still be in _lycée_ , lowering them both to the ground from the magically restored Eiffel Tower by her yo-yo.

“Ladybug!”

“Over here, Ladybug! Can you tell us when Hawkmoth will attack next?”

“How do you expect to defeat a villain who hasn’t shown his face?”

Ladybug reached the ground and made sure that the akuma victim was safely ushered towards the police before addressing the crowd. Alya could just barely hear the beep of her miraculous as she spoke. “I, um, I can answer a few questions before I have to go.”

Dozens of microphones pressed in closer towards Ladybug, and Alya saw the superheroine scan the crowd of reporters with a giggle and a finger wave. It was utterly endearing. There were several camera flashes.

A voice rang out, louder than the others. “Ladybug, how are you able to respond to akuma attacks so quickly?”

“I’ve just been lucky so far I guess.” Ladybug scratched her neck, sheepish. It was the cutest thing and it had no right to be. “Every instance so far I’ve been close to the action. Hopefully I can take Hawkmoth down before my timing becomes an issue.”

Alya squirmed closer, ducking under various camera equipment and various limbs. She watched as Ladybug glanced around the crowd again. What was she looking for?

“Ladybug, will you ever reveal your identity?”

Damn, all the good questions were going to get taken if Alya didn’t reach the front sometime in this millenium. Alya started using her elbows.

“Sorry guys, my identity has to remain a secret for now. I could potentially be in danger if Hawkmoth somehow found out, you know? You guys understand.” There were nods and hums of agreement. All of Paris was lovestruck, absolutely smitten with Ladybug. There was no denying her charm, no ignoring her bravery, selflessness, and compassion. It was beautiful. She was beautiful.

Her earrings gave another warning chirp, and Ladybug gave a last look over the crowd. “I can take one more question….”

This was it. It was now or….whenever Hawkmoth got bored and decided to terrorize the city again. Alya slipped through one last bunch of reporters, nearly falling over as she burst through the front of the crowd. She supposed it was rude, but she was desperate.

She looked up and found herself face to face with Ladybug, whose eyes landed on her and seemed to light up. But that was silly—no, it was just Ladybug’s nature to smile the way she smiled down at Alya, gentle and kind.

“What’s your name?”

Ladybug was talking to her. _To her_. She wanted to know her name. What was her name? “Alya! Alya Césaire.”

“Alya.” Hearing her name from Ladybug’s mouth was ethereal, it was heavenly **.** And strangely, it was almost....familiar. “What’s your question?”

“Are you….” Alya swears she was going to ask about something relevant to Paris and safety and heroes, something clever and compelling and real, but the surreality of standing right in front of Ladybug, staring into her _impossibly_ blue eyes, having her undivided attention, caused Alya’s brain and mouth to suddenly stop working together. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Time stood ridiculously still then, and Alya didn’t have time to think or react to what she’d asked because Ladybug blinked at the question, a soft blush appearing from beneath her mask. If Ladybug was surprised, she didn’t show it. Alya gaped at her in equal parts panic and delight as Ladybug grinned.

“No. But I could be.”

She winked. And then she was gone, bounding over the rooftops in the distance.

They all watched her leave for a bit. They always did. But the magic of her presence faded, and so began the chorus of sighs and shuffling of equipment as the crowd began to pack up.

One particularly disgruntled reporter muttered in Alya’s direction. “Do the rest of us a favor and ask a decent question next time,” he said. “We’re not all here to get the inside scoop for a little fan blog. Some of us have real news to report.”

Under any other circumstances, Alya would’ve corrected him with a huff and a few choice words. But that was the thing. He was right. Alya _knew_ the question was stupid. She knew it was stupid, and she blew her chances at a real interview, probably ever. But she couldn’t stop _smiling_. Her ten second interaction with Ladybug played in her brain in a loop all the way back to her office.

 

✧✧-----------✧✧

 

Marinette was spinning in Alya’s chair when she returned to work, one outwardly-useless but inwardly-thrilling statement from Ladybug later.

“I see you made it to work today,” Alya said in greeting. “Out of my chair.”

Marinette hopped up, smiling. “Well _I_ see that you got to talk to Ladybug.”

Alya couldn’t have stopped the pleased look on her face even if she’d wanted to. “I certainly did. How’d you know about that?”

“I was—I mean I, uh, heard. On the news! Yeah, the news….” Alya cracked a smile at her flustered colleague. Marinette grinned, leaning against the desk. “So. How about that coffee, then?”

“Are you kidding?” Alya snorted, sitting at her desk as Marinette moved to stand behind her shoulder. “I elbowed my way to the front. I got that statement from Ladybug all on my own, no thanks to you.” She smiled at Marinette’s gasp of disbelief, despite herself, and lifted a teasing brow. “Besides, I believe the deal was an _interview_ with Ladybug, so get back to work.”

Marinette shook her head, laughing. “Alya Césaire, you are one hard woman to please.”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Alya smiled, in far too good a mood to be stern, but she tried her best to look like it anyway. “Get back to work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last two chapters are being edited right now and will be posted sometime this week!
> 
> Tumblr: brookscribbles  
> Twitter: @brookscribbles


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